Ever Fallen In Love (With Someone You Shouldn't've)
by soft-trans-boye
Summary: After a bad breakup, Catra and Adora have finally gotten civil enough to have casual sex. The only problem is, Catra is starting to fall back in love with the woman that broke her heart three years ago. (Catra/Adora, college AU, human AU, punk!Catra.)
1. Chapter 1: Shut Up and Fuck

A/N: This chapter contains sex! Please skip ahead if you don't want to read it. Also, this chapter is set to the song "Shut Up and Fuck" by Betty Blowtorch.

* * *

_Baby baby get on your knees_

_'Cause I want you to worship me_

_I don't care who you are_

_I just wanna fuck in your car_

Catra runs a hand through her hair.

She's sitting half-naked on Adora's bed, in her crappy little one-bedroom apartment. Betty Blowtorch is playing out of these shitty little speakers Adora got from Amazon.

Catra and Adora have tried to date while in college, but it has never worked out. After their high school breakup, they've changed as people, and Catra doesn't think Adora will ever love her again.

Not that she wants that. She doesn't want to love Adora.

Luckily, Catra isn't here because of love.

Adora is still tied to the bed frame from their last round of "alone time." Catra leans over to untie her. The blonde stretches her arms and yawns. Catra snorts and rolls her eyes. Adora is like a puppy; going from excited to sleepy in the blink of an eye.

Catra would have never guessed how kinky college-Adora would be. It works out well, she muses to herself, since Catra isn't interested in boring hookups. If she's going to drive up to her ex's apartment, it had better be worth her while.

God, Adora makes it worth her while.

Catra leans over to kiss her neck. Adora moans, and Catra takes that as a sign to continue.

Suddenly, Adora pulls away, but before Catra can get upset, her hand gently pushes Catra down onto the bed. Catra raises an eyebrow.

"Whatcha doing, princess?" It's Catra's favorite pet name for Adora. It suits her, she thinks.

Catra gets her answer when Adora's hand reaches in between her thighs.

"You're such a slut, Adora," Catra laughs.

Adora's eyes darken. "Don't get cocky with me, kitty," she warns. Catra swallows hard.

The times when Adora takes a dominant role are relatively rare, and that's usually how Catra likes it. She thinks of herself as 90% a top, but the other 10% of the time it's nice to let someone else take the lead. To take care of her. Since they've reconnected, it's taken a while for Catra to get comfortable enough to take a submissive role with Adora, but the payoff is worth it.

"Now, you be a good kitten for me, okay?" Adora hums into Catra's ear while her fingers work their magic.

Catra nods and sighs contentedly, slipping away into subspace.

* * *

On the drive home, Catra is left with her thoughts and a Bratmobile CD. Her "meeting" with Adora has left her satisfied, relaxed. For once, it feels like her mind isn't trying to revolt against her.

So why does she feel so empty?


	2. Chapter 2: Cold Feelings

A/N: This chapter contains references to/a scene containing physical abuse. There are no graphic descriptions. The d-slur is used. Please proceed with caution! The song for this chapter is Cold Feelings by Social Distortion.

* * *

Catra dreams of Adora.

In her dream, Adora, perfect Adora, stands across from her. Her blond hair is down, the way Catra likes, and her eyes shine that mesmerizing blue Catra is so familiar with.

"I love you," Catra says, touching Adora's cheek.

"I love you too," Adora says, and Catra blinks, and suddenly Adora is her high school self again, wearing that stupid red letterman jacket.

"But I don't forgive you."

And then Catra wakes up.

"What a stupid fucking dream," she mutters to herself, sitting up and running a hand over her face. Her cat, Oreo, meows in agreement and resumes licking himself. Catra maneuvers out of bed, a difficult task when Oreo is sitting on her blanket.

"I don't need her," she assures herself. Adora is just a fuck buddy. Catra doesn't need her approval, her love, or her pity.

She changes into a t-shirt and jeans. She catches a glimpse of the scars on her back in the mirror and her breath catches in her throat. Adora is the only one (besides her mother) who knows where those scars come from.

In high school, they would have to stay over at Adora's house if they wanted to spend the night together. Adora's father wasn't the greatest, but at least he was almost never around. When he was home, he'd usually be so drunk that he didn't care what Adora did as long as she left him the hell alone.

They had been upstairs in Adora's room, making out on her bed. Things were getting heated, and Adora's hand made its way up Catra's shirt. When fingers touched her back, Catra winced.

Adora knew Catra's mom was a piece of shit, but she still seemed surprised to see the angry red welts on Catra's back. The latest batch was the consequence of talking back to her mother when the bitch decided Catra's grades weren't up to par. "How the hell am I supposed to study with you bitching at me all the time?" Catra had spat, earning her a slap in the face.

It wasn't long before Catra was in Adora's arms, trying and failing to avoid crying. The blonde had brushed Catra's hair softly, kissing her forehead. Despite everything, Catra felt better.

Adora had insisted on putting band-aids over the injuries, even though they weren't bleeding. "It'll make it feel better!" she had said, and Catra had rolled her eyes but complied with the other girl. She appreciated Adora's concern. It made her feel special. It made her feel loved.

Catra would fight back against her mother, but it didn't always save her. A scrawny teenager wasn't a fair match for a grown woman with a belt and years of military combat training.

It wasn't the physical abuse that got to Catra, though. She could handle a fight. But the way her mother could find every insecurity she had and rip it open was something that Catra had never quite recovered from. She had called Catra a dyke before she even knew that she was gay. She had told Catra that the world would be better off without her when she was seven years old. The old hag couldn't go an hour without reminding Catra how utterly useless she was.

Even now, having moved out of the hellhole that was a house but never a home and into an apartment, Catra still has days where she can't get out of bed, her mind a constant stream of her mother's "platitudes."

Catra's apartment is small, but it's the one place just for her. Almost all of her paycheck is spent on rent, leaving only just enough for food. Sometimes she'll have to go without eating for a day or two if she wants to treat herself to a concert or if something breaks. It's still universes better than living with her mother, though.

The only tie she still keeps to her past- besides Adora, and two friends- are a group of her old classmates from high school. Lonnie and Catra talk occasionally, but Catra can sense that she hasn't quite forgiven her for her high school choices.

Kyle and Catra get along better. He has a good heart. His boyfriend, Rogelio is a little less forgiving. Catra has heard him call her a puta under his breath three times in the last month. That's fair. After all, Catra is an asshole.

She's made some very bad choices in the past, choices that she regrets every day. She doesn't expect forgiveness. Probably doesn't even deserve it.

There have been days when she's considered killing herself. After all, she can't torment anyone else if she's gone.

But suicide won't fix the people she's hurt. It won't right the wrongs she has committed. It's not a noble sacrifice, it's a way to run, to escape responsibility.

And Catra is done running.


	3. Interlude: She's Lost Control

A/N: This is a flashback chapter, set about four years before the events of the fic. The next chapter will be back in the present. This chapter's song is She's Lost Control by Joy Division. Catra gets a little problematic in this chapter, so be aware of that before reading.

* * *

"Why can't you just stay?" Catra pleads. She's crying now, tears making their way down her face.

Adora sighs. "Catra, I want to. I really want to, but this isn't healthy anymore."

"So you're leaving? You can't leave, Adora. You're the only one I have left," Catra begs pitifully. _You shouldn't have gotten attached,_ her mother's voice says in her mind. _You knew she was too good for you._

"I love you, Catra, but you've been acting really weird lately. You're pushing me away and I can't figure it out."

"I'll change, I'll do better," Catra promises.

"This isn't forever. I just need some time apart and I think you do too."

Her mother's voice is growing louder now. _You're a failure. That's why Adora doesn't want you anymore._

_No,_ Catra thinks, and balls her hands up into fists so tight that the nails dig into her palms. _This isn't my fault._

_It's hers._

"Fuck you," Catra spits at Adora, and even as the words leave her mouth she knows she'll regret this later- but right now, she doesn't care. She just wants Adora to hurt.

"I hate you," she says. She's seeing red. "I fucking hate you."

Why doesn't Adora look angry? She should be angry. She should hate Catra. Instead, she just looks defeated.

"I'm sorry, Catra."

It's not the response Catra wants. She wants Adora to say "I hate you too," or "I never loved you," or "You were a mistake."

Catra seethes. "No. You don't get to do this to me. You made me this, and now you get to play the good guy?"

Adora just turns away.

Catra doesn't eat for two weeks after the breakup. She sits in her room all day, door locked. Her mother screams and pounds on the door for the first few days. After that, Catra is left on her own.

She sleeps most of the day, but it's not restful. Her dreams are muddled, distorted visions of Adora. Her eyes glow red, a bright haunting red the shade of fresh wounds.

Dream-Adora doesn't talk much. She mostly chases Catra. Sometimes she has a knife in her hand, sometimes she has a bouquet of dead roses. Sometimes Catra doesn't know why she's running.

When she's awake, Catra cries. She blares music in her headphones to drown out her thoughts. Adora texts her on the fifteenth day. Catra throws her phone at the wall and the screen cracks.

It's a Friday when Catra climbs out of her window. She walks to the park to smoke one of her mom's cigarettes.

There's someone else in the park- Scorpia. Catra has seen her around on campus. They've even spoken a few times despite the fact that Scorpia is a senior and Catra is a junior. Normally, students don't talk with students that aren't in their grade, but Scorpia is immune to the unspoken social rules and boldly approaches Catra to ask her on a date. Catra laughs, and tells Scorpia no thanks, that she has a girlfriend already. Scorpia takes it well, good-naturedly shrugging and walking away.

"Hey, Catra!" Scorpia says, gesturing for her to come sit on the table next to her. Catra doesn't know how she can be so happy at a time like this. She sits.

"What's got you down in the dumps, kitty cat?" Scorpia asks, obviously noticing the other girl's foul mood. Catra scowls.

Maybe it's because she doesn't ever plan on seeing Scorpia again, but Catra finds the words coming out of her mouth before she even thinks. "My girlfriend dumped me and all my so-called friends hate me."

"That sucks," Scorpia says. It's the understatement of the year, but before Catra can say so, Scorpia hands her a CD. It's a black and white picture of a man punching a mirror with the words "Black Flag: Damaged."

At Catra's confused expression, Scorpia explains, "This got me through a breakup with a girl I was dating for three years. Turns out she was cheating on me for half of it."

"Thanks," Catra says, taking the CD from her.

On the walk back, she buys herself a CD player with the money she's saved up from her part-time job.

She visits Scorpia in the park every week after that. She returns the last week's old CD and Scorpia gives her a new one to listen to. Sometimes she asks about the music, if Catra likes it or not, what her favorite tracks are. They talk about music, about starting a band, about their plans for the future and worries about what comes next. Scorpia asks about Catra's life, and sometimes only gets a "shut up" in response. But sometimes, Catra tells her about her mother, about Adora, and about how she feels unlovable. Wretched. Scorpia offers words of consolement that don't quite fix the problem but don't hurt either.

Eventually, Scorpia gives Catra her phone number. Catra smiles on her walk home.

She's not alone anymore.


End file.
